Author's Note: As always, flashbacks are denoted by brackets [ ].

**************************************

Angel was pacing around the lobby, frantic to think of something he could do. He had tried reviving Spike for several minutes, using the tried and true beating-the-hell-out-of-him method, to no avail. Spike was utterly unresponsive, and while Angel couldn't put his finger on it, he knew the other vampire was somehow not there. The only thing he could think that might bring him back made him shudder, but...it was the only thing he could think that might bring him back. He gave Spike one last long look. No change. Sighing resignedly, he morphed into his vampire face...

**************************************

"Lydia...Spike...where is my sister?" The vampire grinned.

"She's here, Aldric, she's just letting me deal with this mess. She knows how much I love it." Alan sniveled again as once more fangs brushed against his neck, and the knife edged even lower. Then he screamed as he felt teeth sink into his throat. Aldric watched on in horror as Alan's eyes turned up in his head, then in bewilderment as his possessed sister stood up, her normal face restored, and moved away from the terrified man, laughing hard. "You were right, that was worth it," she said, and Aldric was unsure who was addressing whom.

"Lydia?" he asked uncertainly. Alan also looked up, putting his hand to his neck and then checking for blood. He seemed shocked when he found none. Lydia looked at him with amused contempt.

"Honestly. One would think neither of you had ever seen a glamour before," she responded archly. Aldric relaxed a bit, this was definitely his sister speaking. "Which I find most comical considering the time both of you spend being someone else, particularly me." Alan glared at her, his anger rising now that he was getting over his fright.

"And the vampire? Just another ruse to frighten me?" Lydia's expression changed, her eyes growing hard, and Alan gulped, cradling his injured wrist to his chest.

"Oh, I'm here, you pillock. She was just tellin' me I have to wait to rip out your entrails until she gets some information from you. Like where he," Spike inclined Lydia's head towards Aldric, "might be keeping himself right now. If you don't tell the girl, I get to torture, maim and kill you."

"And if I do?" The smile on Lydia's face was chilling to both men.

"Let's see...I still get to torture and maim you, but probably not kill you. But, hell, if you cooperate, she might stop me. Decide quick, mate, I'm feeling very antsy. Really want to get to the torturing, and the maiming." Alan shook his head violently.

"You don't understand, I can't tell you, they will kill me if I do." The possessed Watcher shrugged, fingering the knife she still held.

"Certainly works for me. I'd rather you didn't spill anything, gives me an excuse to. Spill something. Make you really hurt. Please, don't say anything." She moved towards Alan, knife at the ready, when Aldric stepped forward . The vampire-possessed woman growled at her brother.

"Lydia...Spike...please stop. I'd enjoy the bastard getting his as much as anyone but there isn't time. I came here because there's something you both must know. Please, listen carefully." Alan tried using this distraction to crawl to safety, but putting pressure on his injured wrist made him cry out. Lydia was on him in a second, dragging him to his feet, then holding him up and looking at him as one might a mangy stray cat.

"Ssssh, quiet now. Big brother's talking." She again tossed him across the room, where he landed hard and was silent, momentarily stunned. She turned her attention back to her brother, then suddenly put her hand to her head again and moaned. "God, something's happening...what NOW?" As Aldric watched, railing against his powerlessness, Lydia's eyes lost focus and she slumped forward .

"Lydia!" Aldric cried. A moment later her eyes cleared. She seemed stunned as she stood blinking away tears. She looked at her brother, completely dejected.

"He's gone, Aldric. Spike...is gone. I-I don't know what happened . But the bonding...it's over."

"Oh dear. I can't say I'm unhappy - look out!!" Lydia ducked as several heavy knick-knacks and books from Janice's shelves came flying at her. She held up a hand and whispered a spell to deflect the missiles, and saw Alan approaching her, his confidence returning now that the vampire was gone.

"And here we are again, my dear. We can get back to the business we were concluding before we were so rudely interrupted. I think it's time we ended this, don't you?"

**************************************

Finding himself inside Lydia was one of the more interesting experiences Spike had ever had, which considering the fact that he had been around for more than a hundred years was really saying something. It had been strange, of course, but he had instantly recognized the now familiar feel of her mind, having shared it through the bond for days. Being inside her body was quite different than having her image inside his head. He instantly knew everything there was to know about her, from the way she liked her toast to her favorite sweater to her first kiss to her infatuation for him. He knew that she had to have the same knowledge about him, all his likes and dislikes and such, as well as all his memories of violence past. There was an awkward moment when she instinctively recoiled and tried to push him out. Then she seemed to accept and even welcome his presence, and as one they realized that they had the strength of a vampire, but were still human. Neither of them really understood why that was, but they knew it to be true. Bit by bit their identities were beginning to merge. He could hardly remember whose idea it was to create the vampire illusion. They were still mostly separate, but it was already hard to tell where he started and she ended, and Lydia kept telling him that she was certain eventually their minds would become one mind and he would be part of her forever. Spike didn't like the sound of that, but then he realized that in this form he could hurt Alan Travers.

Spike eagerly anticipated torturing the loathsome man. After having gone so long without being able to inflict pain on a human without tormenting himself , he would finally get a chance to unleash some of that frustration without repercussions. The prospect of causing human bloodshed made him almost giddy. And what was more, the man was bad news, had tried to kill Lydia, and therefore even Buffy would have to agree the man deserved to feel some pain. It was going to be brilliant.

Then Lydia's brother started yammering about something. Throwing Alan across the room was again was good, but only as a prelude to the brutality to come. The man was too petrified to use any of his magickal talents, and Spike was going to make him pay for that mistake. Lydia was telling him to wait, they needed to listen to Aldric. Then all at once he felt a *tugging* sensation. Confusion, alarm and a dismay that he was pretty sure was actually coming from Lydia swept through him. He felt himself fall back into the void he had so recently escaped...then he no longer felt anything at all.

**************************************

Geoffrey strode towards the cage that held his son. He could not believe how well everything was coming together, but knew that his good fortune just proved that he had been right all along. They would not fail, because their success was fated to be. It was just the way the world worked. And with that understanding, he wanted to put in some more time gloating to Aldric, his hated son.

Looking into the cage, he saw that Aldric's eyes were closed and his head bowed. A tray with some crackers and a cup of water sat by his feet, and rats had begun gnawing on the unexpected treat. The underling who had been left to watch his son was keeping a closer eye on these new visitors, Geoffrey noted. He fixed the man with a stare and the lackey immediately came to his side. Geoffrey pointed at Aldric.

"How long has he been like that?"

"Since you left, sir. I think he's asleep. Or he might be praying, I heard him mumble something for a bit, but I couldn't make it out. I went to give him some food, but didn't want to wake him." Geoffrey glared at this follower, who now cursed his own soft-heartedness. He should have gone ahead and forced the young man awake, but he had looked so peaceful. Now, as the two men watched, one of the rats moved to Aldric's foot and began gnawing on his pants leg. Aldric did not even twitch. Geoffrey's eyes narrowed.

"Let me in there." The other man fumbled with the keys in his rush to get the door open. Geoffrey strode in and went straight to his son's body, kicking aside the couple of rodents who failed to scatter. He grabbed Aldric's chin roughly and pried one of his eyes open, looking at him intently. The underling jumped as Geoffrey suddenly roared in frustration.

"Dammit, he's up to something. Bring the sorcerers, now!" The minion scurried off, knowing his life was likely forfeit if he didn't act with all haste. Geoffrey looked at his son bitterly. "I don't know what you think you're doing, boy, but we both know it's already too late."

**************************************

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had been concerned when Buffy had failed to report in after patrol, and even more alarmed when Anya had failed to report for work as scheduled. The girl was many things, but irresponsible was definitely not one of them. She always let Giles know if something was keeping her from getting to work on time. Because the something keeping her was nearly always Xander, Giles often wished she was a bit less vigilant and a lot less forthcoming with her excuses. Buffy might neglect checking in, but Anya would never fail to call. His relief had been immense when the three young people came walking in the door, seemingly unharmed. That sense of worry lifted had, over the course of mere hours, been transformed into one of the largest headaches he had experienced in years, as the three tried to explain what had happened and then looked to him for some kind of explanation. As they were looking at him now. Giles rubbed his eyes again, then returned his glasses to their rightful place.

"Yes, well, it is very strange, isn't it? There could be any number of explanations for these occurrences." Buffy gave him a frustrated glare.

“Well, could we pick a number, like say, five, or something? Like the top five explanations for how most of my friends have had little spacey experiences? Not to mention how the three of us wound up performing ‘Chrissy, Jack and Janet have a wacky misunderstanding’ this morning.”

“It’s not even clear that the two are related, Buffy. Honestly, what happened to you might have a perfectly natural explanation.” The others all stared at him, then Xander nodded in mock agreement.

“Giles is right, of course. Natural explanations abound in Sunnydale, like street gangs on PCP and people constantly falling on barbecue forks.” Giles glared at him. The headache was definitely getting worse. He turned back to Buffy.

“I’ll continue to consult my books, of course, but for right now I think there are more pressing matters, don’t you?”

“You mean Glory. How do we know she’s not involved in this? Maybe she’s going to use some kind of attack like this to take Dawn. Giles, I have to know.” Giles shook his head.

“I promise you, Buffy, none of the research the Watchers’ Council have on Glorificus indicate she would do anything this...subtle. I think that if something demonic or in any way paranormal is indeed going on here, Glory is highly unlikely to have been involved. And I think it‘s also possible that the cause of these incidents has no malevolent intent whatsoever.” Buffy stared at him blankly.

“Huh? Ma-who-volent whatsis?” Anya stood to help a customer who had just arrived, calling back over her shoulder to Buffy as she walked away.

“I think he’s right, I mean, personally, I feel great! Evil magicks usually leave a bad aftertaste.” Buffy looked at Xander, who shrugged and nodded.

“Anya‘s got a point. I feel a bit wigged by it all, but not really bad about it.” He squirmed a bit after he said that, and Buffy wondered if Xander might be keeping something to himself. She shrugged and looked to Giles, who was rubbing his forehead again.

“So, we’re going with unknown forces of wiggy but not necessarily evil origin?” Giles looked at her and sighed.

“I’ll continue to consult my books, of course, but I think we needn’t be unduly upset about this business.”

“Not when there’s so much other business needing our valuable being upset time,” Xander chimed in after him in agreement. Buffy took a deep breath, letting it out in a puff. She slapped her thighs and rose.

“Okay then, I’m off to catch a shower and to play ‘Guilt Tripping: The Home Game’ with Mom. I’m hoping I’ll be able to distract her by asking her to tell me about Brian again, she gets all flustery and girly. I’ll check in later.”

**************************************

Angel continued to watch Spike carefully, though his eyes kept straying back to his own wrist. *One good thing about being a vampire, you heal fast.* He had heard about ancient vampires having certain rituals that used their own blood to call back those of their line from long distances. He didn’t know any of the actual rituals, so he had simply bit into his own wrist and squeezed blood into Spike’s mouth while calling his name. Angel had thought that his grandchilde’s body had trembled slightly as his eyes closed, but that was hours ago and the blonde vampire was still unresponsive. He was beginning to think he’d imagined it when Spike suddenly turned his head and groaned. Angel hurried to his side.

“Spike, can you hear me?” Spike’s eyes remained shut, but he turned his head towards Angel.

“Yes, I can bloody well hear you. And if I can, I guess I’m back to being me.” There was both relief and vague disappointment in his tone, and to Angel he made no sense. Spike’s eyes fluttered forward and he simply looked at Angel for a moment, then he sat bolt upright so quickly Angel almost went into his gameface.

“Did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“The ritual, did it bloody work?” Angel gave him a little proud smile.

“Well, it wasn’t a ritual, per se, but I did manage to bring you back to -”

“No, no, no, you stupid - not me, the ritual! Something went all wonky towards the end, and I’m not sure...” He stared at Angel’s forehead intently. “The little green whatnot, did it vanish?” Angel felt his forehead, remembering the talisman for the first time since Spike had collapsed.

“I don’t know...I guess...is it gone now?” When Spike huffed in exasperation, Angel retorted sarcastically, “Well, let’s see, let me find a mirror...oh, wait...” Spike merely glared at him, still intent on figuring out if he had completed his mission successfully.

“Did you smell anything?”

“Spike, what is this? Did I smell anything? Like what?”

“I don’t know, like someone’s in the kitchen with bloody Dinah kind of smells. Cooking, like Buffy‘s little Thanksgiving party you crashed.” Angel rolled his eyes then cocked his head, trying to remember.

“Honestly, Spike, you were having a seizure. I didn‘t know what was going on, in fact I still don‘t. I wasn’t paying much attention to anything else at the time. I don’t remember a smell, but there might have been.” Spike kept staring at him, a strange expression on his face. “What? What does it matter if there was a smell? When are you going to tell me what is going on?”

“I hope it doesn’t matter at all,” Spike answered softly, his thoughts drifting to a blonde Slayer. *Please let it have worked. For Buffy’s sake.* He looked back at Angel, who was still giving him an annoyed look, and felt an unexpected rush of fondness for him. *And for his.* Then Spike shook his head ruefully. *God, I am such a sap.*

**************************************

Lydia clutched the knife, eyeing Alan warily as he moved towards her. Alan chuckled at her patronizingly.

“Come, come, dearest. We both know that with the vampire gone you’ve not the stomach for violence. You aren’t going to use that knife.” He charged for her, reaching for the knife, and Lydia surprised him by ducking under his charge and tripping him. Within seconds she was straddling him, her knife held against his throat. She was trembling, her eyes rimmed with tears, but still holding a glint of the hardness that had been there when Spike had been with her.

“You know, my brother tried to warn me. There’s a funny thing about bonding spells. Personalities tend to bleed into each other, and they don’t always fully separate.” Alan tried to buck her off, but she held on, squeezing her thighs tighter around his waist. She held the knife closer, and a small trickle of blood began to work its way down the side of his throat. “The dark tends to get lighter, the good gets more...”

“Bad...” Alan whispered with a kind of reverence. “Lydia, I’ve never...you’ve never been this way before. This darkness in you...it’s intoxicating...you must join us. Join me, together we’ll bring down the light and make the night go on forever.” Lydia shuddered.

“I’m not like you, Alan.”

“But you are, don’t you see? The vampire, he made you this way. Of course, we’ll no longer be able to sacrifice you to Svarog, but I’ll find another substitute...then you and I can be together for all eternity.”

“I see. How about this for an alternative plan...you tell me where I can find Aldric, and I let you live. You don’t tell me, and I kill you here and now. Unlike Spike, I don’t feel the need to torture and maim, so I’ll just skip to the finish.” Alan smiled a triumphant smile.

“You should kill me, you need to embrace your darkness. It’s only a matter of time before-”

“I don’t care to hear anymore about my darkness!” Lydia bit off, strained. Aldric was still watching, his body taut with tension. He so desperately wanted to intervene and he was still helpless to do so. He could only watch the scene play out.

“Go ahead. Kill me. I’ll never betray your father and the Concillium Nocens.” Alan began to giggle, enjoying the tormented look on her face. “You can’t save your brother, he’s as good as dead. But he’s going to die in horrid pain, begging and pleading for his...oh....” Alan’s eyes widened, and he gurgled slightly as his hands reached for the hilt of the knife now impaled in his chest. His hands brushed at it ineffectually, then were still. His dead eyes remained open, staring at Lydia with an almost loving look of awe. Still shaking, Lydia stood and turned back to her brother, blood on her hands. She held them out before her.

“I...I...oh God, Aldric, what have I done?” Lydia began to whimper. Aldric opened his mouth to speak and his image suddenly wavered and came back into focus.

“Lydia, they’re bringing me back!” Lydia watched in horror as the image began to fade in and out. Her brother’s voice also faded in and out, sounding like it was coming from an AM radio hitting bursts of static. He began screaming to try to compensate.

“Aldric, quick, where are you? Tell me something, anything!”

“Don’t try...find me...need to go...Sunnydale...find...Summers...was wrong...”

“What are you saying? Aldric, I don’t understand.”

“I made a...take in...phecy, wrong...friend not Angel...Slayer...danger...” As Lydia watched in horror, her brother’s image winked out completely on one final word, a word that brought her to her knees defeated, almost broken. She had failed to save her brother. She had failed to save a friend. She might have failed to save the Slayer, and the Dark Council might win after all. The last word Aldric had cried repeated in her head over and over as she sobbed...

*...mother...*

**************************************

Buffy entered her house, calling out for her mother. She was a bit surprised that Joyce didn’t come running up right away, fussing and checking her for unmentioned gaping wounds, but the house was quiet. She was distracted by a bouquet of flowers by the door, and took a moment to read the card. Her mother may have found a good guy after all, and the thought made her feel happy and sad at the same time. *Ah, flowers mean good mood. Mention them right away...and offer to do something! That should distract her from the guilting for a minute.*

“Hey, flower-gettin’ lady! You want me to pick up Dawn at school? Mom?” Buffy was confused, her mother should have been all over her by now. She turned towards the living room...

*...mother...*

**************************************

Spike took the mug of heated blood that Angel offered and sipped it. They had once more lapsed into an awkward silence. There was too much water and blood under this particular bridge, and too many questions that Spike couldn’t really answer. Although now he was finding he had a few of his own, and was wondering what Angel might do to him if he asked...

“How do you do it, mate?” Angel looked up from his own mug, puzzled.

“I thought that you were pretty much doing the same thing,” he responded, pointing to his mug. Spike shook his head.

“No, I mean, how do you stand being with them? The humans?” Spike moved about the room, too agitated to stand still. He turned back and looked at Angel frequently as he spoke. “I mean, one day they’re food, the next, wham, you’ve got a soul, and bam, I’ve got a soddin chip, and now they’re...what? Our friends? We’re not supposed to have feelings for them...” Angel grinned as he came to a realization.

“But you do, don’t you? It’s not just Buffy. You actually like them. The Scoobies. Buffy’s friends.” Spike shrugged, suddenly embarrassed.

“Some of them I want to kill less than others, that’s all.” Angel kept grinning at him, and he scowled back. “What?”

“Nothing. Just a bit surprising.” Spike sighed, shaking his head.

“Tell me about it,” he muttered under his breath. To Angel he merely said. “Doesn’t really matter how I think of them, they want no part of me. The Slayer wants me gone, too, she’s made that perfectly clear.”

“Why do you stay?” Angel asked curiously.

“Why did you go?” The blonde bit back. Angel stared into his mug thoughtfully as he responded to the question.

“Leaving Buffy...was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But she needed me to do it, and I had to be strong for her.” Angel looked up as Spike snorted, then saw the self-deprecating smile on his face.

“Staying there, not being able to be with her, that’s the hardest thing I’VE ever done. But she needs me. I know she does, even if she doesn’t. They all need me, and I’m not going to go.” Angel regarded him solemnly.

“Sometimes, you just have to hang in there. Trust that, no matter what you’ve done in the past, there’s still going to be a chance that they’ll forgive you.” Spike gave him a strange look. He had the feeling Angel was now talking about something else. Before he could ask, they both heard voices and footsteps coming towards the hotel. Angel suddenly looked panicked.

“That’s the guys and Cordy, I totally lost track of the time...you’ve got to go!” Angel snatched the mug out of Spike’s hand and practically dragged him out of the room. “There’s an entrance to the sewers here, it’ll get you out safe without any risk of bursting into flames.” He looked at Spike for a second, then put out his hand. Spike took it for an awkward shake, both trying to shake memories of their embrace from earlier.

“Take care of yourself, mate,” Spike offered gruffly. Angel nodded.

“It was good to see you, Spike,” Angel returned, surprisingly sincere. Then he hurried back to greet his friends. Spike knew there was no real reason for him to stay, but he was curious about what was going on. Angel had seemed so nervous, he knew something was up. He stayed out of sight but listened in.

“Cordy, let me get that for you...” he heard Angel call.

“I’ve got it, thanks, help Wes. He was the one who was shot, after all.” Cordy’s voice was so icy Spike almost shivered.

*I’d say Angelus has gotten himself into a bit of mess here...this could be fun.* Spike grinned to himself as he kept listening.

“Wes, let me...” Angel was interrupted by a voice Spike didn’t recognize.

“I’ve got that, Wes.”

“Thank you, Gunn.”

Spike smirked. *They’re all giving you the cold shoulder, mate. What did you do, I wonder?*

“Well, then, I’ll just...just...” Spike couldn’t remember the last time he had heard Angel sound so lost. Mercifully the telephone rang at that moment, and he heard Angel jump on the sound in relief. “I’ll just get the phone!” he called almost happily. Spike heard him pick up the phone a second later.

“Angel Investigations, we...Giles?”

Spike froze at the Watcher’s name, his heart in his throat. He heard Angel gasp and take an unnecessary breath and one word pulsed in Spike’s brain. *Buffy...*

“Oh, God...how’s Buffy?...Dawn?...no, I wouldn’t think so. When should I...I see...tell her I said...tell her I’ll be there, okay? Thanks, Giles. Thank you for calling.” The room had gotten quiet while Angel was on the phone, and now Cordy spoke.

“Angel, did something happen to Buffy?” There was a long silence, so long that Spike nearly started to scream, then Angel finally responded.

“It’s Joyce. She’s dead.” Four words struck at Spike’s heart, and he scrambled down to the sewer and began to run. He stumbled unseeing down the sewer tunnel, trying to outrun his own failure. Sudden memories flashed through him, each one heralding his colossal mistake. The mistake that would likely kill the woman he loved...

Spike ran faster, as if he could outrun the flashes of memory...

"Oh God...oh God..." his sobs echoed through the tunnel...

Spike’s legs suddenly gave out, sending him sprawling across the sewer floor. He howled in fury and sorrow as the words continued to echo in his brain.

“Why?” Spike screamed, drawing his legs to his chest to make himself small. He didn’t know who he was asking. No one actually answered. But he continued to repeat the question, rocking himself as tears rolled down his face.

“Why?”

**************************************

Aldric’s eyes opened, and he stared into his father’s smug countenance. At that moment he wanted nothing better than to wipe the smirk off of his face. He leaned forward and spit, hitting his father’s cheek. Geoffrey wiped the spittle from his face, no longer smiling, but his eyes dancing with excitement.

“Did you have a nice trip, son? See anything interesting? Or should I say anyone?”

“Your lap dog, Alan Travers. Afraid he won’t be able to join in your new order anymore, Father, he’s grown rather dead.” Geoffrey’s eyes widened in shock and dismay, then became manically animated once more.

“Dead? A pity. But in truth, his role has already played out. I was going to let him live until Lydia’s sacrifice, of course, but now we’ll have to come up with another plan. A minor inconvenience, I assure you. I assume you saw your sister on your travels?” Aldric looked away, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “It doesn’t really matter, son. We’ll collect her soon enough. Now that her fiance is dead, we can’t have her running to the Council with what I am certain you told her about our plans, can we?”

“She’s smarter and tougher than you think, Father. She‘ll track down this place.” Geoffrey shrugged.

“No matter. We’ll be leaving shortly. We need to go collect our great offering to the demons, then heading to the sight of the convergence.” Aldric decided to make one last desperate attempt to reason with this father.

“Father, how do you know that these demons are going to honor their word with you, particularly when you fail to honor your word with anyone else? They’ll kill you as soon as they no longer need your services.” Geoffrey shook his head gleefully.

“No, my son. They won’t, because only we will be able to control the instrument of their success. The bringer of destruction. Shiva in human form.”

“I don’t understand, Father.” Geoffrey motioned for a minion to come forward, he was carrying a syringe which he plunged into Aldric’s arm. Within seconds he could feel himself beginning to black out. Satisfied, Geoffrey walked away from his son, tossing his answer almost casually over his shoulder. They were the last words Aldric heard as he lost consciousness.

“I mean Sharonda Martin. The next Chosen One, whom Alan has taught well. She has chosen to join our cause. One girl, in all the world...that can end it all.”